


International Men of Misery

by poolsidescientist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Crack, Crack Relationships, Episode: s11e04 The Lost Art Of Forehead Sweat, M/M, Romance, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13530549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poolsidescientist/pseuds/poolsidescientist
Summary: The smoking man and Dr. They have a long history together.





	International Men of Misery

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the X-Files. I don't know what possessed me to write this either. It might actually be the worst thing I've written in my life.

In his mind, Dr. They would always associate Carl with smoke. He walked through dark basements like a shadow and puffing away at a cigarette. His clothes smelled like smoke, making him appear as a polluted spectre. Heck, even his cock tasted of smoke. Like many things, Dr. They had grown used to the taste.

And he had had plenty of time to do so. The two men had met while staging the moon landing. Carl was producing it, and Dr. They was in charge of brainwashing the actors to make them think they had truly gone to the moon. The duo hit it off afterwards while drinking coffee and eating sweet potato pie in a questionable diner, and since then, they made a point of enjoying each other’s company from time to time. The company was generally enjoyable, unless Carl insisted on reading one of his novels. He was a truly terrible writer, but thankfully the man had other talents.

“You know, you kind of look like a raccoon with the bags under your eyes” said Carl, taking a puff of his cigarette and leaning against the no smoking sign in their hotel room. From any other man it would have been an insult, but somehow his awkwardness was charming.

“Working with aliens messed up my sleep patterns back in the sixties,” They explained, clicking away at his keyboard trying to edit a video. It was difficult, keeping up with the new technologies but he was a powerful man in a changing world. Both of them were. Unknown men who shaped history. Carl took a last drag of his cigarette and came over, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“What are you making?” Smoke wafted from his mouth as he asked, looking over Dr. They’s shoulder at the poorly-edited video he was trying to upload to Youtube. 

“My autobiography, just the important things. All of the facts, and yet none of them,” Dr They, looked up, and stroked the other man’s face.

“Just like my novels. The stories of Raul Bloodsworth,” Carl grinned, They had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“In a sense,” he agreed, finally uploading his video for the world, “I’m putting the truth out there, but in a way that no one will believe it.”


End file.
